Taxi driver finds it hard to survive in capital
By Listiana Operananta
JAKARTA (JP): How long can a human endure unbearable suffering? Forever, says Walter Siahaan, 51, a taxi driver who sees his life going downhill.
Siahaan has been a taxi driver for 22 months, the first 12 months with President Taxi, and the last 10 months with Gamya.
He said the job was not what he dreamed of. "But it was the only one I could get," the father of two daughters said.
Siahaan had quite a tale to tell.
Siahaan was born in 1946 in Pematang Siantar, North Sumatra, as the second of eight children. His father was a tailor.
Since his father had difficulties in making ends meet, Siahaan moved to Jakarta after a short stay in Pekan Baru, where his brother had lived a long time.
He arrived in the capital in 1963, with the sole intention of continuing his studies. But he said life was very difficult here.
"So, I decided to move to Yogyakarta, because I heard from relatives that a lot of people go there for cheaper tuition."
In the Central Java town, he once received some money from his mother -- but that was all.
Siahaan tried to find some way to keep his nose above water while studying economics at a high school there.
Later he started smuggling, financed by one of his friends, who was quite rich.
Siahaan's first task was to smuggle rice and eggs from Yogya to Jakarta.
"I brought 100 kg of rice, divided into five flour sacks, which was then put into three suitcases, I also brought 5,000 eggs and some garlic."
But suddenly the communist coup attempt came in 1965.
"Uncertainty made it difficult to smuggle anything from one place to another, much less find a job," he said.
Siahaan decided to try his luck in Jakarta. "I also wanted to find my dad, who had moved to Jakarta to find a job," he said.
He found his father selling charcoal, "but he had also taken another wife," he said.
Initially, he said he was reluctant to stay with them, but had nowhere else to go.
"I stayed and helped him, and enrolled at the University of Jayabaya's School of Economics."
After graduating in 1976, Siahaan got a job with Pertamina, the state-owned oil company. Feeling settled down, Siahaan married a Javanese girl, his schoolmate.
But he only stayed with Pertamina for a year and a half because he got another offer at Astra, a private manufacturing company.
"I worked there for five years and it was the best time of my life, because within 11 months I was appointed as administration manager."
While he was at Astra, Siahaan said, he developed good relationships with government officials and other prominent managers.
"The job boosted my life. My wife and two daughters enjoyed a luxurious lifestyle. We had a car and were able to rent a decent house."
"I was also sent abroad for several months and when I returned home I was entrusted with projects in East Kalimantan. But the job was the beginning of the end of my fortune," he said.
In East Kalimantan, Siahaan was given the task to supply heavy machines to local contractors to build a new transmigration site.
"I was quite successful there and one of the local consortiums offered me a job, but I refused and said I enjoyed my present career."
"But as the consortium kept pushing me and gave me Rp 5 million to move to its company, I finally yielded."
Siahaan said he never predicted that moving to the consortium would be just like stepping into hell, because he had conflicts with the management all the time." he said.
"After that I went downhill fast. I changed jobs maybe 12 times between 1991 and 1996, until I was employed by President Taxi."
He said he did not stay with President long, because passengers seemed reluctant to take yellow cabs.
Siahaan said he tried to change his job and fate, but being an old man he has had difficulties finding better jobs. "People want young, energetic employees now," he said.
"All I do now is pray to God to protect my wife and children. I pray they can have a better life after I'm gone, because I've been a disappointment to them," he said. After saying that, the taxi driver's hardened face choked back tears.